That Awkward Moment

Chapter One - My Missing Half

The sound of Linkin Park blasting through my phone speakers in the background woke me from my dreamless sleep. I had to set the alarm on the highest volume, otherwise I would never get up for school.

Sighing, I reached over and unplugged my phone from its charger, turning of the music so it didn't wake my parents from their much needed sleep. I drearily climbed out of my warm bed, and ambled to the bathroom which was down the hall from my room, and across the hall from what used to be Grace's room.

I paused and stared at her door for a moment. I'd gotten used to its emptiness, and the eerie quiet it emitted since Grace had been issued to stay at the hospital full time.

The urge to enter her room, and surround myself with her bubbly familiarity overtook me, and I took a few tentative steps towards it.

I frowned slightly, remembering the day we had an argument over me repeatedly entering her room without her approval. We shouted at eachother - well, mostly she shouted at me. Something about invading privacy and whatnot. Makes you think she had something to hide. She ignored me for two days before she got over the stupid disagreement, and I promised never to go inside 'Grace Headquarters'  again without asking her permission. Would going inside it now be a some sort of weird betrayal?

Just thinking of her made me want to stab that promise in the face and throw open the door, climb into her bed, and cuddle the covers that still carried her scent after all this time of them not being slept in.

Words couldn't describe the pain I was feeling.

I turned the doorknob, and swung the door open. Katy Perry, and environmental campaign posters covered the lime green walls. Unfinished sketches and dull shading pencils were scattered across her desk. The smell that ultimately screamed 'Grace!' entered my nose.

I backed away, and slammed the door loudly.

It was too much.

It felt too real.

Like any moment now she would slap me with her Seventeen magazine and demand I make her toast.

I miss seeing Harry Styles every morning before his face violently smacks my own.

I miss being treated like a scummy little servant who has nothing better to do with her life than butter toast.

I miss petty debates over the most idotic things.

I miss Grace.

My twin. My other half of me. Peanut butter without jelly. Salad without dressing. Music without sound. Hot guy without a shirt. Wait...never mind. I can live with that last one being seperated.

I turned away from the chamber of memories, and entered the bathroom, preparing myself for what I was about to be faced with.

I don't think people understand just how horrible looking into the mirror every morning, every night, and those times in between is when each time you do it, you are practically staring eye to eye with your dead sister.

I glared at my reflection, angry that it made me suffer through that constantly. I also think a part of me was angry that I enjoyed seeing what looked so much like Grace. It wasn't right that I enjoyed it, I wasn't being fair to myself, seeing her when I look into the mirror.

***

Sitting in the passenger seat of my Mom's car as she rove me to school was nerve-racking. Not only did she not trust me to drive my own car to school, I was going to have to face a bunch of podding students wondering where I've been for the past week.

My Mom allowed one week to grieve in peace before sending me back to the hellhole of darkness and doom. Not that I'm complaining or anything, that was longer than she had given herself. In fact, I'm quite sure she's trying to work herself into her grave.